The Chosen Sisters
The Chosen Sisters The chosen sisters share their hearts, Their words, Their stories. They’re hard stories, Of loss And pain , Of o ld wounds, festering, pulled open, To face light. They hurt, the sighs of grief, of shame and age-old trauma, Nearly accepted as the norm, Ever nagging. This could not be right. This is not okay. And we the sisters share the story, Action is inevitable. We must DO something with it. Sometimes, we sit by water, listening to it lapping at the shore, Holding the story or letting it be. We place it on the current and watch it drift away. We witness. Or we put it under bright lights And we realize that what has been so awful, In the dark of our nights, Might just be funny. No, hilarious! It’s power is gone, escaped into the night. We might just set it ablaze And chuck it, burning, off a cliff And we howl, “You don’t own me Anymore...